


Joined Together (again)

by Jacqueemackee



Series: Run & Come [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (Steve thinks he has one), (but only kinda), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Honeymoon, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) is a Good Bro, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, Multiple Orgasms, No Refractory Period, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Premature Ejaculation, Reunion Sex, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Top Steve Rogers, but it takes a few orgasms to get there okay, okay eventually they have a refractory period
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27681599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacqueemackee/pseuds/Jacqueemackee
Summary: There was a wedding but Bucky and Steve may or may not actually be married.Sam & Natasha tried to tell them but Steve and Bucky ran out of the church before they had a chance, too intent on getting their hands on each other for the first time in 69 years.This is that time.Takes place immediately where Bucky Runs & Comes leaves off.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Run & Come [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024228
Comments: 22
Kudos: 114





	1. Over The Threshold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shax92](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shax92/gifts).



> Whew! As promised, the beginning of the sequel for my NASBB fic Bucky Runs (his mouth) & Comes (back home).  
> Y'all, your comments and feedback on part 1 were AMAZING and inspired me so, so much. This fic is dedicated to Shax92 who in addition to being my incredible artist for this bang, was also the fic's first cheerleader. I was nervous about dabbling into a new fandom, and such a big one at that, but y'all made me feel so very welcomed. Here's some smut!
> 
> There will be shenanigans, bureaucratic mixups, Howlies (but not the originals), lots of delicious food, and vengeance against Hydra.
> 
> But first, the wedding night.
> 
> I was going to try and get the whole wedding night posted at once but didn't want to go too long without updating so here's the first part and I'm already 3 pages into chapter 2.

Bucky grunts on impact and the thunk of his head hitting the wall has Steve immediately tugging him away from it again. Who knows how Bucky has been shoved and slammed around before? But Steve barely breathes out, “sorry, sorry”, when Bucky yanks him back in, arms wrapped tight around Steve’s neck. Bucky’s body is so demanding against his, hard and pressing, and Steve grinds helplessly back. He keeps one hand tight on Bucky’s waist while the other starts sliding back their jackets, first one side, then switching hands and grip to do the other. Vest next because there’s too many layers and Steve just needs to get as close to him as possible. Their ties next, don’t need to take them off, just tug the knot a few inches down so the top shirt buttons can get undone and Steve can get his mouth on Buck’s neck and lick up the taste that it so incredibly, indescribably Bucky. He moans against Bucky’s skin and Bucky whimpers a little in response.

They’re both panting, pawing at each other, still half-dressed in their wedding suits and in the hallway outside Steve’s bedroom. Steve wants to hold on, make it good, give Bucky what he deserves. But they can’t wait, it’s too much, it’s been too long, and they’ve both been touch-starved for literally years. “Please,” Steve pants. “Please, Buck.”

“First time fast,” Bucky gasps.

  
Steve grins and finishes the phrase, teeth nipping against Buck's skin. “Second time slow.”

_ It was Bucky’s idea, of course it was. One too many times they’d been promised a day, a shift, even a hour of rest and privacy, only to be interrupted by urgent news or orders when they were all worked up and in the middle of things. Again and again being forced to tear themselves apart, worked up and aching, to get back to the war. Bucky had come up with the idea of starting with a rushed quickie, getting each other off as fast as they could before slowing down and taking their time, savoring each other and their bodies the way they wanted. Interruptions were still awful, of course, but no longer had them snarling with frustration and build-up. _

_ Steve had never thought it strange that Bucky, young and virile and full of adrenaline, was always, always up for a second time. Maybe he should have. Heaven knew it was his own frailty that had always held them back from second rounds before. How could Steve have suspected that Bucky… that he’d been… _

“Steve,  _ now" _ , Bucky groans in his ear. “While we’re still young.”

Steve chokes out a laugh but he’s already moving, hand working his way down Bucky’s body, popping the buttons until he hits the narrow strap of Bucky’s lower back holster and his waistband just below it. He decides he’ll worry about disarming Bucky later and tugs the belt and button and zipper open with quick little jerks. And oh  _ fuck _ , there’s Buck’s dick, straining against already skintight royal blue boxer briefs. Steve moans as he cups it, rubbing the heel of his hand from the base to the tip until he’s cupping the head and balls as he presses their bodies close and sucks at Bucky’s neck again.

Bucky’s moaning right back at him, “Steve” and “please” and  _ “Stevie” _ as his fingers rub restlessly over Steve’s head and shoulders and back. “More, now, more.” Steve’s been stripping Bucky since 1936 but his hand still fumbles as it yanks down the briefs and wraps around Bucky’s hot, sticky dick. They groan together and their mouths find each other as Steve starts to move his hand. He doesn’t want to slam Buck into the wall again or fumble over Bucky’s gun so he wraps an arm around Bucky’s hips, forearm pressed against one ass cheek and his fingers digging into the other.

Natasha had asked him once about his experience, teasing questions about whether he knows how to please a partner and Steve had stammered out a complete non-answer because the truth is that he  _ doesn’t fucking know _ . He knows how to please one James Buchanan Barnes and him only. Knows that if you want to tease, you squeeze at the base and ease off as you go up, so you’re just stroking gently over the head. Knows where and when and how to either rub the pad of his thumb over the frenulum or flick it lightly with his nail to get extra-delightful noises. And now, right now, he knows that to get Bucky off as quickly as possible; you make your hand so tight that the skin surrounding the shaft moves up and down with your movements and you make it fast and you shove your tongue into his mouth with demanding, fuck-like thrusts and you moan to hell and back until Bucky’s thrusting in your grip and whimpering and digging his nails in. And he is.

Bucky is glorious, so hot like this, and Steve wishes he could watch but he can’t tear his body away, his dick rubbing hard but finding no satisfaction from Steve’s knuckles and Bucky’s belt buckle and everything else that is blocking it from Bucky’s body but trying anyway, the still done buttons on Steve’s dress shirt scraping Bucky’s open wider and wider, Bucky’s breath puffing out in little pants from his nose because Steve has claimed his mouth so thoroughly. Soon, so soon, Bucky’s dick is throbbing in Steve’s hand and he’s close, so close. Steve pulls back just enough to move his hand even more freely and keeps Bucky’s dick pointed straight up so he comes all over his own chest and abs crying, “Stevie please please Stevie hnrg please Steeevviieeee.”

“Easy, Buck, that’s it, I gotcha, come for me, so good baby, so good for me, let it all out, yes, baby, yes,” Steve coaxes as he holds him through the waves then gently strokes the last drops out. Bucky hangs off of Steve’s shoulders, utterly wrecked and still half-hard. His face is flushed, body sweaty, hair in wild waves, shirt hanging open to frame the splatters on his skin trickling down to the mess in Steve’s hand. Steve’s own dick is pulsing almost painfully and he lets go of Bucky just enough to yank his pants open and pull it out. He brings his messy hand to the base of Bucky’s treasure trail, palm up, and presses in as he moves up from waist to nipples, palm cupped to scoop up as much come as possible. He grips Bucky’s hip and pulls his body and lips close once again before growling,  _ “Mine”, _ and wrapping his dripping hand around his aching cock.

The lubes Jarvis ordered for him to try were amazing of course but when given a choice about what he wants to slick him up when he’s jerking off, Steve will choose a full load of come from Bucky Barnes every time. It’s sloppy and thick and sticky and the salty cream reek of it fills Steve’s nostrils as he sucks in air between Bucky’s hot, sweet kisses. He doesn’t last long, he can’t, Bucky is so beautiful and he’s here and a lonely bed can never compare to the waves of love and lust crashing over him as come splashes over Bucky’s chest and abs once again.

Now they’re both staggering a bit, panting and clinging to each other as Steve guides them to the bedroom. Towels, wipes, a need to be naked for the second round. Steve firmly closes the door behind them, shutting out Jarvis’ ability to monitor what goes on inside other than basic life readings. There will be no recording, audio or visual, of what happens next, no matter how secure.


	2. Into The Bedroom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I seem to recall a comment or two about me being on my knees. Wouldn’t want to make a liar out of a fine fella such as yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so incredible and amazing! I am in awe of all the lovely, lovely comments I've gotten on both fics in this series so far. I had just enough time to either respond to them all or finish up and post another chapter and I hope you will forgive me for choosing the smut route!

He grabs a hand towel from his nightstand, carefully wiping down the worst of the mess on Bucky before scrubbing it against his own hand. He tosses it in the hamper he carefully placed next to the bed and repeats the process with wet wipes as Bucky hisses at the damp chill against his skin. “Think it’s time to get these nice duds offa you, buddy.”

  
Bucky laughs softly. “Oh, you think so? That your professional opinion on the matter?” Steve chuckles in response as he eases the suit coat and vest over Bucky’s shoulders and sets them aside. He brings one of Bucky’s hands up and then the other, sucking on Bucky’s fingers to keep them still as he undoes the cufflinks and puts them on the dresser.

“I seem to recall a comment or two about me being on my knees. Wouldn’t want to make a liar out of a fine fella such as yourself.” Steve murmurs in Bucky’s ear as he slides the dress shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He slides down, brushing his lips over Bucky’s dog tags, flicking his tongue against the underside of a nipple to catch a drop of sweat, and pretending to ignore the way Bucky’s twitching back to full hardness, among other things.

Sometime soon, very soon, Steve is going to examine and memorize even the minutest changes in Bucky’s body. He is going to trace every scar with his lips and feel them all with his fingers. Find out if the arm is attached only at the shoulder or if there’s metal embedded in Bucky’s collarbone and spine as well. He will curse Hydra a thousand times more than he has already and redouble his efforts to make them pay. But for now, his lust and his love are in total agreement. His top priority must be reconnecting with Bucky as thoroughly and as deeply as possible. Surface changes can wait, no matter how brutal they are.

Once he’s on his knees, he gently removes what turns out to be a small peashooter from the small of Bucky’s back and eases the clasp on the holster open and off as well. “Got you a weapons case for all your gear. Right there in the closet, in with your clothes, biometrically sealed and everything. ‘Cept this little baby, which could probably fit in a nice little spot in the headboard right next to your pillow. It’s so small you could maybe slide two knives in next to it instead of just one.” For now, though, the gun joins the cufflinks.

“Mmmm.” Bucky runs his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You sure know how to treat a guy.”

“I know who's got my six.” He turns his attention to Bucky’s leather dress boots, shining mirror bright as always, carefully easing a finger in at each ankle to draw out first one small throwing knife, then another. They join the gun on the dresser. Bucky shifts his weight obligingly as Steve pulls off his boots and socks before sliding his hands back up. He tucks his fingertips down the back of Bucky’s briefs, taking a long moment to squeeze and rub at Bucky’s perfect ass before inching them down along with the pants, wrists cocked out to the sides just enough that the material doesn’t drag over the slim daggers strapped to the outside of Bucky’s thighs. His hands freeze and his mind quivers to a stop when they come into view. Instead of Bucky’s usual practical straps (or cloth strips during an ill-equipped mission), one by the tip, another closer to the handle, the slender knife sheaths are kept snug against Bucky’s thighs with silky blue garters edged with white lace.

“Oh BB,” Steve breathes out. “Are these for me?”

Bucky rakes his nails gently over the nape of Steve’s neck. “My knives are never for you, Stevie.” A pause, then, “At least, not when I’ve got any say in the matter.”

“Oh Bucky….” Steve trails off as he nuzzles the crease between Bucky’s thigh and groin, sliding his pants and briefs off the rest of the way. Bucky’s cock bumps into Steve’s cheek as he lifts up first one foot, then the other, as Steve whisks away the last of his clothes. “You’re here now, that’s what matters.”

“Imagine my surprise at finding out garters are still around, and a wedding tradition at that.” Bucky’s fingers, both hands, trail over Steve’s neck and ears.

“These are a darn sight prettier than the sock garters you used to wear with your suit,” Steve murmurs. “More fun to take off, too.” He kisses the skin just above the top garter starting at the inner thigh and working his way around until he encounters the dagger handle, thigh hair crinkling pleasantly against his lips as he goes. He runs his hands up Bucky’s leg from ankles to thigh, keeping one cupped around the strong muscles and using the other to pull the sheath out from the beribboned straps with their dainty bows. He lips at the bottom garter until he’s got an edge between his teeth and slides it gently down over Bucky’s quads until it drops loosely to the top of Bucky’s gorgeous calves. He strokes fingers behind the back of Bucky’s knee until he shivers predictably in response then tugs the garter down to his ankle. He repeats it with the other garter on his right leg before pulling them both off Bucky’s foot together, draws out the left knife sheath to join the pile on the dresser. “These knives look pretty special. You’ll have to tell me all their names, later.”

Bucky snorts a laugh. “Getting distracted, Rogers?” His hips twitch restlessly, dick rubbing against Steve’s jaw and ear.

Steve chuckles lowly. “Never, baby. Not when it comes to your body.” He mouths at the top garter on Bucky’s left leg feeling the change from silky blue to patterned white lace to warm flesh and thick hairs against his lips and tongue. He plans to take the last two garters down with his teeth, he really does, but he gets distracted by all the sensations and keeps spreading his lips wider and wider until he’s mouthing over Bucky’s leg, sucking pink marks into his thigh. He laps at the skin, going farther and farther in until his tongue rubs over both Bucky’s thigh and testicle in one swipe.

It’s too much all of a sudden. The scent of Bucky’s sweat and musk and the remaining smears of Bucky’s come on his skin. His own dick throbbing, as neglected as Bucky’s bobbing right there in his face, and he just can’t hold back anymore. Steve braces his hands on the back of Bucky’s thighs and tilts his head to slide Bucky’s perfect dick between his lips. Bucky moans as his fingers scrabble for purchase over Steve’s head but his hair is too short, even his bangs barely long enough to grab onto. Bucky’s hands keep moving until he’s gripping Steve’s shoulders tightly, Steve moaning right back at him all the while, the metal feeling flesh-warm and almost natural against his skin.

_ It’s 1936, he’s 18, and doing this for the first time, the feel of Bucky’s dick strange and heavy inside his mouth, his own limp and drained from how thoroughly Bucky sucked him first. It’s 1940 and he’s smooth, confident, always searching for new ways to make Bucky fall to pieces. It’s 1943 and he’s nearly gagging from the taste of unwashed sweat and grime but still swallowing Bucky down, desperately, he’d been so convinced he’d never get to do this again. It’s 1945 and Buck’s murmuring, “good luck suck?”, as they huddle close in their freezing Army tent, snowing falling outside the night before their last mission. _

Steve whimpers a little as he pulls back, bringing his left hand to wrap snug around the base as he licks swirls over the tip, right hand still stroking helplessly over ribbons and lace and hair and muscle. “Go easy on me, huh? I’m a little out of practice here.”

“Pretty sure it’s been longer for me, pal.” Bucky shivers with how hard he’s trying to hold still.

  
“1945 long enough for you?”

“Wait, what?” Bucky freezes entirely. “You’ve only been with dames since you woke up?”

“Ain’t been with nobody.” Steve teases at his frenulum, loving the way the tip of his tongue still fits there just right. “You know me, I’d rather wait until I find the right partner.”

Bucky nudges him back a few inches as he stares down at him. “People must’ve been all over themselves trying to get with you.”

  
Steve sighs, forgoing his mission to get Bucky more in his mouth and sitting back on his knees. “With Cap, sure. But they didn’t have much use for Steve Rogers, not really.”

Bucky blinks at him. “That is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard while I’ve had my dick out.”

  
Steve snorts. “Well, then, let me put it in somewhere and we’ll change the subject.” Bucky snorts back at him but doesn’t object when Steve slides his lips snug over his dick and down the shaft until it fills his mouth, just whimpers a little and rubs Steve’s shoulders as he sucks hard. Steve pulls off slowly, keeping his lips tight and the suction strong, until Bucky’s dick breaks free with a wet pop. “‘Sides”, he continues. “It’s kinda hard to find someone with shared life experience.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs. Face open, lovely hair brushing over his shoulders, fingers and muscles flexing and twitching against Steve’s back and hand as he does. Steve grins so wide at the sight that he has to pull back before his teeth do some damage. He squeezes Bucky harder and traces his lips with the tip until he settles and looks back down at Steve again. “Christ,” Steve whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”

Bucky smirks at him, eyes heavy-lidded. “You talking to me or my dick, pal?”

Steve gives him his best unamused glare even as he wraps his lips tight just below the head and swirls his tongue around and around. Bucky stares back, smirk and glare both fading as they get lost in each other’s eyes. It’s always been this way, ramping each other up and egging the other on until they get sucked in, it’s no longer a game, their gazes are locked, bodies shaking. Steve isn’t sure which of them moans first, the sounds filling his ears and vibrating on his tongue as he squeezes harder at Bucky’s thigh and cock. His hand is moving, steady, feeding Steve Bucky’s cock over and over as he rocks his upper body back and forth to take it in deep again and again. Bucky’s hands are clenched tight on Steve’s shoulders but his arms are loose, not trying to guide or force him in any way, just hanging on for the ride. Bucky pants, open-mouthed, as he stares down at him, unable to look away.

Steve sucks harder, faster, determined to make this good but also greedy as hell because he’s been wanting this so damn bad for so damn long and the only answer is to swallow Bucky down at every opportunity, fill his mouth again and again until the years of emptiness are a distant memory. Bucky,  _ his _ Bucky, is here where he belongs, with him. And he’s close, too, Bucky getting, somehow, impossibly harder, and the thick vein underneath giving its telltale throb. Steve wants to encourage him, to talk dirty, to babble out sweet words and declarations of love, to beg for it, but he can’t take his mouth away, can’t stop his tongue from rubbing over every inch of Bucky that he can reach and then rubbing again, harder. He can make noise, though, and he does, moans and whimpers and  _ yes yes yes _ sounds as Bucky pants harder. “Steve,” he finally gasps out.  _ “Steve.” _

Steve nods just a little, head still bobbing, hums  _ mmhmm  _ followed by a high plea and Bucky takes it for the consent that it is, cupping Steve’s cheeks tenderly as he throws his head back again and comes down Steve’s throat. Steve keeps his mouth steady, lips sealed just past the head so he doesn’t choke, gently stroking Bucky through pulse after pulse until he’s finished and then stroking a little more to coax out the last drops. “God,” Bucky whispers to the ceiling. “I love you so much.” More emotions than Steve knows what to do with crash over him and he wants to snark back  _ you talking to me or my mouth _ but he can’t, his mouth’s full and it’s hard enough trying to lick Bucky clean without any dripping out.

He waits patiently as Bucky’s breathing slowly comes back to normal, just enjoying the feel of Bucky’s dick resting loosely in his hand as his lips keep a light seal around the head. He softens his grip on Bucky’s thigh, too, fingers stroking reassuringly over the sensory wave of skin, hair, lace, and ribbon in quick succession. Finally, finally, Bucky lets out a long sigh as he chins drops to his chest, thumbs rubbing wonderingly over Steve’s cheekbones. Steve smiles a little up at him, eyes bright, and tilts his head up, easing his lips slowly off Bucky’s cock, mindful both of Bucky’s sensitivity and his own mouthful of come. He waits a beat as Bucky licks his lips expectantly then tilts his head back still farther, breaking eye contact so he can swallow all big and showy, so hard he can feel his adam’s apple bob up and down his throat.

Bucky shivers and tugs at him, hard. Steve goes easily, rising to his feet as Bucky yanks him into a hot kiss, mouths open. Bucky doesn’t have much use for the taste of his own come but Steve laps into his mouth anyway, intent on joining them together in any way possible, bodies still separated by all the layers of Steve’s formerly crisp tux. He wraps one hand around Bucky’s waist and slides the other up his back, up into his hair and  _ oh _ does it feel good, tumbling over and around Steve’s hand as he rubs fingers against Bucky’s scalp. He gives it an experimental tug and Bucky arches into it, head going back as he rasps, “You’re a real menace, Rogers.”

Steve sucks in a breath. “You sound thirsty, BB.” He forces his fingers to unwind from the silky sweetness of Buck’s hair and guides him to sit on the edge of the bed. His clothes are half-stuck to his body and pull uncomfortably as he turns and crouches down to pull drinks from the mini-fridge. He hands two bottles to Bucky and taps them both, first tinted, then cloudy. “One thousand calories. Two thousand calories. Designed for bodies like ours. Just thought you could use a little sustenance before the next round.”

Bucky takes him in as they drink, eyebrow raised as his gaze roams deliberately over Steve’s disheveled layers, the sweat on his forehead, the bulge painfully trying to tent against tightly tailored pants. “Nothing is happening until you’re naked, Rogers.”

Steve gulps. “Understood.” He recaps the empty bottles and drops them in their container to await cleaning and re-use then starts frantically tugging at his clothes, suddenly awkward under Bucky’s lazily appreciative eyes. Bucky looks warm and well-sexed, his dick finally soft, the lace on his garters rumpled but still snug against his thigh. Even the metal arm Steve hasn’t had a chance to examine looks inviting, an easy match to the tags still nestled against his chest. He’s just sitting there on the bed, like he’s relaxed and at home. On Steve’s bed. In Steve’s home. With Steve.

Steve distantly registers that he’s now completely nude, boxers and pants in a puddle on the floor over his shoes but he is just frozen. Staring. At Bucky. At his  _ husband. _

He had a plan for what to do next but at this particular moment, utterly in awe of the beauty that is one Bucky Barnes, he has completely and utterly forgotten what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can not get the image out of my head of WS Bucky naked except for dogs tags proclaiming STEVEN G. ROGERS and JAMES B. BARNES nestled between his pecs and 2 knife holsters, each strapped to his thigh with 2 delicate lace & blue ribbon wedding garters. It lives there forever now.
> 
> I head canon that Steve's "waiting for the right partner" is both an oblique reference to him being queer (partner instead of woman/dame) and his not yet realized demisexuality. Growing up, Steve just honestly thinks he's being traditional in wanting to really care about his partner, to wait until it really means something. A pretty face is just a pretty face to him and he wants something more than just physical attraction, with substance and fire and connection. Then he gets out of the ice, does some Buzzfeed quizzes, and goes "Huh." He doesn't really feel that connection with anybody in the modern world so he just... doesn't date, and he wears frumpy grandpa clothes to make it clear he's not looking. He does indulge his inner thot a bit when he tries to flirt with Sam but the mention of the front desk lady shuts him down pretty fast and then he encounters Bucky again soon after. The part of the plot where that comes up is so far in the future that I thought I'd mention it now.
> 
> For anyone who is worried, Bucky’s backpack (the one you see in CW with his notebooks in it) was left with his clothes in the getting ready room at the church. He'll get it back... eventually.
> 
> Do people like the little flashbacks to their past? I'm thinking about doing more, not just incorporating them into the story but possibly as a side work as well. The outline for Steve's memory of going to his knees in the forest during WWII alone is something else *fans self*. And since they lived in a queer neighborhood I could just have so much fun with the things they used to get up to and the art Steve would be commissioned to create. Or it could just all be smut of memorable moments. (One source for NYC queer life is here: https://alwaysanoriginal.tumblr.com/post/617881912165466112 )
> 
> Keep being awesome!!!


	3. Going for Thirds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one feels as good as you, BB.”
> 
> “But you’re my sugar, punk.”
> 
> “Ain’t tasting myself, Barnes.”
> 
> “Hey, that’s Rogers-Barnes to you, pal.”
> 
> Steve lifts his head. “Barnes-Rogers.”
> 
> Bucky cocks an amused eyebrow at him. “Is now really the time, Stevie?”

Kissing seems like a good place to start.

Steve shuffles forward and just barely registers the way that Buck’s thighs start to part in response when he’s pulled up short by the tangle at his feet. Half-formed concerns about inadvertently looming over a seated Bucky vanish in his anxious juggling to slip free of the jumble of cloth and leather tangling his feet.

Bucky just huffs a soft laugh and watches, leaning back with hands propped behind him on the mattress. He seems utterly unselfconscious, no apparent concern for the angry scars wrapping around the join of his metal arm or the arm itself. Steve finally gets everything kicked into a heap behind him and then steps forward again. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Bucky blushes but says nothing just bites his lower lip and looks up at Steve through those dark eyelashes, suddenly shy. Steve wonders what thoughts have come rushing into his head now that the edge has been taken off, the earlier urgency gone.

Bucky’s, at least. Steve is still agitated and hurting from only one orgasm so far, wound tight by the sensory overload of stripping Bucky and sucking him deep. And now he’s naked and lovely before him and Steve wants to map out every inch of his skin, every change to his body. He’s leaning forward to get a closer look, raising a hand to touch, but he just keeps going until he’s bent over Bucky, mouth pressed open and hot to his right shoulder, hair tickling his face. “Lie back?”, he murmurs. “Let me love on you?”

Muscles flex under Steve’s tongue as Bucky eases gracefully to the mattress, Steve keeping contact the whole way. Bucky reaches up to cradle him at head and hip and Steve lets their bodies touch but keeps most of his weight propped up, fearful of seeming confining. He sighs against Bucky’s throat. “No one feels as good as you, BB.”

“But you’re my sugar, punk.”

“Ain’t tasting myself, Barnes.”

“Hey, that’s Rogers-Barnes to you, pal.”

Steve lifts his head. “Barnes-Rogers.”

Bucky cocks an amused eyebrow at him. “Is now really the time, Stevie?”

  
Steve laughs a little, but the movement shifts his dick against the mattress between Bucky’s thighs and he’s distracted back again. He licks over Bucky’s neck, unpredictable swirling patterns up one side and over and back down again, lapping up the sex sweat left behind by a clothed orgasm followed by an intense suck job. “See?”, Bucky murmurs, the sound vibrating against Steve’s throat. “Keep going like that, I’m going to taste like you all over.”

Steve nips at his shoulder, just hard enough to leave a mark, before shifting his body down. Bucky strokes his fingers over his hair in response. He’s too built up and on edge to pull back enough to get a good look, but he can trace Bucky’s skin with his tongue, take note of ridges and puckers and smooth, sunken patches. Nuzzle deep in that soft patch of chest hair he was always so jealous of, searching for hidden marks. Given their fight on the helicarrier and the files, there’s not as many as Steve thought there would be and they’re both smaller and fainter than he’d expected. Except for around the arm. Were the angry, roped lines a result of the gruesome methods Hydra used to attach it? Or was his body constantly rejecting and fighting the metal and the bond, able to neither detach or heal over it? What made it so much worse than stab wounds and bullet holes? His dick angrily reminds him that _now is not the time_ so Steve just lightly brushes his lips over the metal/flesh connection and moves on. 

When he makes it down to Bucky’s waist, he gently coaxes one leg up and then the other, bending them so Bucky’s feet are flat on the edge of the bed. Steve eases off his body slowly, lapping his tongue from thigh to inner knee before pulling away for a towel and a pillow and the lube he thought best for the first time, high quality but with no exciting add-ons like flavors or tingling sensations. Bucky lifts his hips obligingly when Steve nudges them and he tucks a firm pillow underneath with a thick, dark towel spread on top of it before taking full advantage of the position to stroke and rub Bucky’s ass. When he gives a firm pinch, however, Bucky drops his butt back down and squirms hard against his hands, pressing them against the soft terrycloth.

“Guess I’m trapped,” Steve laughs softly, bending over Bucky again to flick his nipples with his tongue. “How am I ever going to fuck you?” He escalates to nibbles and sucks until Bucky lightens the pressure on his hands and gives that glorious ass one last squeeze before pulling free and grabbing the lube again. He pours a generous amount in one hand to start warming up and wraps the other around Bucky’s thigh to keep him steady. He strokes gentle circles around Bucky’s hole with two dripping fingertips, savoring the way Bucky’s cheeks clench and release around his hand. He likes watching droplets slide from his skin to Bucky’s, even though he knows it just means he poured too much. He rubs his fingers softly over the muscle, warming it further, feeling it relax.

“You pouring some sugar on me there?”

Steve huffs another laugh. “You know, there’s a song about that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dirty one, too.”

“Anything about you would be.”  
  


Steve is caressing his husband’s asshole and yet it’s the words that make him blush.

“Not me, jerk. Sugar. Pouring it on- well. We can listen to it later.”

“Oh? We doin’ something here?”

“Jerk.”

Bucky just smirks a little but when Steve presses one finger snug against him, he bears down and tips his hips up to take it in. After all these years, it’s still automatic to keep his finger positioned just right so the pad and not the tip brushes against Bucky’s prostate.

He remembers the day Buck came home with a nail file from a manicure set somewhere. _You’re gonna take care of those claws from now on, pal. No more rough edges or hangnails, ya hear me? I’m delicate in some places and you gotta treat me right._

He’s suddenly grateful for Natasha’s insistence on a spa day earlier. He’d tried his best but his close-trimmed nails were now far smoother and better rounded than he could ever manage on his own. Maybe he and Bucky could make a regular thing of it. One scare from a too rough finger flick was enough. He missed fingering Buck so bad. On the frontlines their nails were always too rough with too much embedded dirt to risk the infection, they’d just had to slick up and push in as gentle as they could.

Now, though, he can do it right. The lube is so silky-slick his finger can slip right over the prostate and back, nice and easy. Bucky smiles and adjusts a little but it’s not until Steve slides in a second finger and strokes his prostate a little harder that his soft dick gives the first little twitch against his thigh. Steve smiles. That’s what he likes to see.

He bends down to nuzzle against Bucky’s chest some more. The dark, soft hair had always ignited a combination of _want_ and _want to have_ inside him, even after the serum. The nights in Brooklyn he’d spent with it against his cheek, the nights in bedrolls he’d spent feeling it rub against his ribs as Bucky slept on him, the way he’d always liked to pet it to calm down after sex or a bad day. Three years he’d been unfrozen with no one to pet, no one to bury his face into while they stroked his hair and murmured soothingly, no one to pull close and manhandle until they were just how he wanted them, knowing beyond any doubt that they wanted it too, wanted him. So now, now he sets his lips and teeth and tongue to Bucky’s nipples the way he’d been too impatient to earlier, coaxes out Bucky’s sweet, breathless noises like music, feels the way he squirms against his mouth and fingers. His BB has always been so sensitive and it’s all the sweeter knowing that Bucky’s already got his, twice over, and his reactions now have nothing to do with buildup or basic biological demands and everything to do with what Steve knows how to do with Bucky’s body.

He pulls back when Bucky’s relaxed and ready for three fingers, runs his free hand over everywhere that he just had his mouth just to watch him respond. Steve pours more lube onto his fingers, just in case, but pauses a moment and just presses them against Bucky’s hole instead. “You alright there, Buck?”

Bucky smirks up at him. “I can do this all day,” he taunts.

Steve grins back, smile satisfied but body aching. “We’ll see about that.” Bucky is snug, so snug against three fingers but his body’s open and lets him in easily, no clamping down or anxious flutter of muscles. Steve groans, hard. Sucking Bucky off always leaves him raring to go and that orgasm in the hallway had just barely taken the edge off. He needs to be inside his man- his _husband_ \- and soon. He makes sure to give Bucky’s prostate a little extra pressure with every thrust but focuses mostly on sliding his fingers in and out, over and over again. Bucky’s dick has filled out almost to full size but is still lying on his thigh with only the occasional twitch upwards. That’s okay. Steve knows what he needs.

He pulls out and rubs the lube over his cock, panting at the slick heat of it and the lazy welcome on Bucky’s face. He adds another squirt of slick for good measure, dripping onto the edge of the towel, knowing it’s far too much, but not wanting to take the slightest risk after so long. He just wants to make Bucky feel good, all pleasure and no pain.

“You ready, baby?” His voice is softer than he means to be.

“Why don’t you find out?” Bucky’s drawl lights him up all down his spine and Steve could whimper at the well-comed heat of it, but it’s not enough, not this time.

“I need to hear you say it, Buck. Tell…. Tell me that you want me.”

Bucky stretches and adjusts his hips, all languid and welcoming, chestnut hair in a halo around him, arms reaching above his head, palms up and fingers open. “Come on, punk. Show me a good time.”

_“Bucky,”_ he pleads. His free hand grabs at Bucky’s chest, forefinger and thumb plucking desperately at a nipple.

Bucky brings his arms back down, metal one cupping his hip and the other one curving over his neck, just like earlier. “I’ve wanted you since even before I knew what it meant,” he murmurs. “I want you now and I want you still and I’ll want you forever.” He pulls Steve down & curves his own body up so he can murmur against his lips. “Give it to me, Stevie. It’s been so long.”

Steve kisses him, hard and desperate, Bucky’s mouth still holding an echo of his come. He fists his hand in Bucky’s hair, keeping his mouth close until he’s panting and then slowly easing Bucky’s head back onto the bed. He brings his hand back down to Bucky’s chest to brace himself and lines up carefully. Bucky reaches down to cup his balls and tug them up and out of the way.

Steve rubs a slow circle against Bucky’s hole with with the head of his cock, smearing it with lube one more time, just in case. The pillow under Bucky’s ass tips his hips up at a most exquisite angle. When Bucky bears down, his hole flares open, and Steve pushes gently inside. He stops with just the head in, so careful, already drowning in heat and wet, while Bucky relaxes and the muscle pulls him in a little farther. Bucky bears down again and Steve presses in, slow and easy, eyes fixed on Bucky’s face for even the most microscopic of responses. They pause together and take a moment just to breathe, gazes locked.

Bucky’s eyes are like the ocean, gray blue and inviting Steve to drown. The dark lashes and brows that frame them so perfectly. A lock of hair is plastered to the side of his face, curving against his temple and ending at one perfect cheekbone. His lips are the same delicate curve that’s haunted him since he was fourteen, pink darkened into red by Steve’s kisses. The little divot in his chin that’s always the perfect size for Steve’s thumb when he tugs Bucky in for a kiss. His chin in his entirety, jutting out in a way that aligns exactly with the curve of Steve’s top teeth when he’s feeling bitey. “My beautiful BB,” Steve whispers. “So perfect for me.”

He’s halfway in now, so he grazes his knuckles against Bucky’s as he pulls his hand away and wipes it on the towel. Bucky moves, too, so they each have a hand on the other’s hip, free to push or pull or stop as they need. Bucky is fire and heat around his cock and Steve is ready to burn. When Bucky bears down again, Steve works his hips forward. As he slides in that final inch, his balls press against Bucky’s lucious ass and his orgasm explodes through him.

Steve cries out in shock, gripping tight, trying desperately to hold back but he’s helpless against the sparks and flames roaring through him, pouring him out into Bucky again and again. He fights to slow his thrusts, ease their strength, but his body belongs wholly to the man in front of him, around him. Every nerve is alive and sparking, and he shouts until his voice is hoarse and his dick is spent. Even then, he can’t escape, held fast by Bucky’s hands at his hip and neck, but he bows his head in shame, face red and dripping with sweat, painfully aware that his weight is braced on the hand pressing into Bucky’s chest but utterly unable to move.

Bucky waits quietly, thumbs moving in slow circles of… pity? Reassurance? Steve’s breathing slowly returns to normal but he keeps his face hidden, scrambling to think of sufficient apologies.

His self-flagellation is interrupted by a low chuckle. “And to think that I used to joke about my _sixty_ second Stevie. That was barely six-”

“Sh…. shuddup. I…. I can go again.”

“You sure about that?”

Steve takes careful stock of the situation. He peeks up at Bucky’s face, only to find that it holds no judgment, no hint that Steve may have entirely ruined his wedding night through his loss of control. There’s just an indulgent smile, quirked up at one side in a way that might indicate anticipation. Bucky’s cock is full but not fully hard. No sign that he’s utterly killed the mood there. And Bucky’s ass is even wetter and hotter around him, his come coating everything.

He checks his own body. An edge of tiredness, true, it’s been a long day and the two orgasms were powerful, but there’s nothing there to hold him back. His dick feels soft but it’s still filled out, closer to full size than flaccid. Still sensitive, luxuriating in the heat and slick of Bucky’s body after so long. His balls ache from the force of his orgasm but don’t feel entirely empty. He can do this.

Steve shifts his hips a little, confirming that he won’t slip out of Bucky as long as he stays snugged in close. He slowly straightens himself up, pulling his hand away from Buck’s chest and wincing at the print left behind. Flexes his toes against the carpet and adjusts his stance. Strokes his hand over Bucky’s cock, grinning at the way it twitches and bumps his fingers in response. A handful more feather-light touches and Bucky’s dick leaves its resting place on his hip to point at the ceiling. “See? If you can go again, I can too.” It’s a belated response, but it needed to be said.

Bucky gives him a quirk of an eyebrow to match the one on his lips. “If you say so,” he challenges.

  
Steve gives him an eyebrow right back. “I do say so.” He wraps his hand fully around Bucky’s cock and strokes him base to tip, thumb pressing the underside just before the head then thumbing over the top. Nice and easy and teasing until Bucky’s squirming a bit and clenching around Steve’s cock. Oh _yes_ , that’s exactly what Steve needs. He keeps it up until Bucky’s squeezing and releasing in a steady rhythm, back arching a bit and fingers insistent on Steve’s neck. “There’s my beautiful babydoll,” Steve murmurs. “So sweet for me, so good. You know just how to get me going, don’t you? Love feeling you around me. I can tell how bad you want it. Not enough to have my hand on you, is it? You just keep aching for more. Can you feel what you do to me, BB? Do you like knowing I can come so hard and it still won’t be enough, as long as I’m in you?”

Bucky responds with little noises and the restless tension that means he’d be fucking his hips up if only Steve’s hands weren’t holding him so tight.

James “Bucky” Barnes has always been a slut for sweet words from one Steve “Stevie” Rogers and it sends a thrill of rightness straight to Steve’s soul to know that this fundamental truth has remained unchanged.

The words are true, too. The heat and rhythm can’t be denied and trying to go again so fast makes everything feel extra shivery and electric but they just keep going. Steve holds his hips still until his cock is aching from the effort, trying to twitch inside Bucky’s tightness as he slowly comes back to hardness. Finally, finally, he can’t take it anymore and he rocks forward, just a little. Bucky groans in response.

“There you go, baby. Is that what you need? Should I fuck you right this time?”

  
Bucky moans, “Now, Stevie. Quit playing with me.”

Steve pulls back a few inches, slides home. “Like this? Is this what you wanted?” He pulls back again and Bucky yanks on his hip so hard that Steve has to clench his fingers into Bucky’s hip just to keep his balance as he slams back in. “Alright, alright! How do you want it?”

“Hard,” Bucky growls at him. “Make some memories.” He clenches tight around Steve’s dick until Steve’s almost hissing from it.

“Sir, yes sir.” He keeps his hand steady and loose on Bucky’s cock as he starts to thrust in earnest. Hand up, hips in, hand down, hips back. Again again again. Bucky lets go of his hair to brace his hand against the mattress and push back against him. Sometimes Steve likes to indulge Bucky like he’s a pillow princess but he always loves it when Bucky fucks back.

They build up together, slow and inexorable. Steve can feel his balls start to draw up tight as his cock throbs more and more. Bucky’s sweating and licking and biting at his lips. He grips Bucky’s cock tighter and feels it throb in response, too. Bucky’s close. Steve slams in harder and then pauses, balls deep, so Bucky can clench hard around him, the way he knows Steve likes so much. When Bucky eases up, Steve pulls back so just the head is inside and thrusts home, yanking on Bucky’s hip to make sure he’s as deep as he can go. Another pause, so Bucky can squeeze and release around him, another thrust. Steve rubs harder, keeps his hand moving on Bucky’s cock even when his hips are still. Ten slow, hard thrusts in, Steve clenches his hand perfectly in time with Bucky’s ass, and Bucky arches his back, crying out as he begins to come and their rhythm all goes to chaos.

There’s no pauses, no pacing, just Steve’s hand moving fast, milking every drop from Bucky as his ass spasms and tightens around Steve’s cock. Steve’s hips rabbit in response, fast and urgent, unable to pull out far but always trying to go in deeper, deeper. Steve’s lost to it, the intense lines on Bucky’s face, the noises pouring out of him and echoing through his body, the come spurting over his hand as he races to release. Bucky’s metal fingers embedded in his hip are bright points of pressure/pleasure/pain but he’s not trying to guide Steve at all, just holding on for the ride. This orgasm rolls through Steve like thunder, slow and powerful, instead of the lightning strike of the previous one. He feels every spurt of come as a sharp throb and he shakes with the force of it. He’s groaning something that may be _I love you_ or may just be nonsense as Bucky’s cries keep ringing in his ears.

When Bucky’s finished orgasming, he collapses back onto the bed, body lax as Steve keeps rocking his hips, chasing every last wave and sensation. Soon he, too, is finished and he lets go of Bucky’s hip to collapse forward, just barely holding himself up with a forearm planted on the mattress to one side of Bucky’s ribs. They pant together for a bit and Steve slowly reacquaints himself with his body as a distinct object and not a conduit of sensations and sparks.

His toes curl in the carpet. The fronts of his legs are pressed into the side of the bed. Lube and come are dripping down his balls. The fingers of one hand twitch faintly from grabbing Bucky for so long while the others are coated with come. It’s not as much as Bucky’s first orgasm, nor the second, but Steve carefully brings them up to his face and licks them off anyway, pretending not to notice the way Bucky watches through cracked eyelids.

Steve bends one leg at the knee, flexing and pointing his ankle before putting his foot down and switching sides, letting his forearm take more of his weight. He’s been standing for so long. Bucky stretches too, extending his legs straight out from the bed before bringing them back to tap Steve’s hamstrings with his heels. The movement is almost painful on Steve’s dick and they both gasp a bit as it slips free in a fresh wave of lube and come that Steve can feel trickling from Bucky’s asshole to Steve’s dick where it flopped against Bucky’s cheeks and down to Steve’s balls and Bucky’s ass crack. He straightens up slowly, squeezing Bucky’s ankle with his clean hand and reaching for the towel with the other. Somehow- miraculously- the pillow has mostly stayed in place and the towel over it is still half under Bucky’s ass and half hanging off the bed just like how Steve wanted it to be. He wipes his hand off with one corner of the loose part before bringing it up between Bucky’s legs to clean his stomach and everything else. Bucky hisses at the brush of fabric over his now completely spent dick but not as much as he did when it was a rough, cheap towel or scrap of Army-issue handkerchief instead of the finest terrycloth Steve’s back pay could buy. He wipes Bucky’s balls off as best as he can then lifts them out of the way with one hand while he wipes their underside and Bucky’s perineum with the other. He pats carefully at Bucky’s tender asshole, pressing the skin gently with the towel to soak up as much as he can before thoroughly rubbing Bucky’s thighs and ass. He spares a moment to marvel at the fabric’s absorbency before he tugs the towel out from under Buck. That part is only slightly damp from soaking up Bucky’s sweat so Steve uses it to scrub at his own dick, balls, and thighs. Sex is _messy_ in a gloriously human sort of way. It’s hard to feel special when he can feel the sticky itch of drying come in his pubes. Satisfied, though, he definitely feels that. He tosses the towel into the hamper and grabs a clean one from the nearby stack. This time he rubs Bucky down top to bottom, drying his face and neck and behind his ears before moving to his chest, armpits, the dog tags slick with sweat, and on down. Steve uses the last dry patch on his own face, pits, chest, and the rest as Bucky looks him over with half-lidded eyes.

Thirst and exhaustion hit him all at once but he has to keep going, be a good husband, take care of Bucky, be sure to treat him right so he’ll stick around this time. Christ, he’s Bucky’s _husband._ Decades worth of dreams all coming true at once. He’s got a ring on his finger and Bucky will have one on his soon, he _will_ , and here are the fancy sheets and towels and bed he always said he was gonna get for Bucky one day so that Steve could bed him the way that Bucky had always deserved.

Bucky is amused but unresisting as Steve pulls down the sheet and blanket and then gently scoops him up and sits him against the head of the bed. He pulls out two of the 2k Cap colas for Bucky and two more for himself and they drink slowly. Bucky hands his empty bottles back to Steve, who makes sure they all get in their right bin before he pauses, one knee already up on the bed. “Any… anything else you need before we turn in for the night?”

Bucky smirks. “How about a sexy space heater to keep me warm?”

Steve flushes red all the way down his chest as he climbs the rest of the way into bed. “I’m coming, geez.”

“Naw, pal, I think you are absolutely done coming for the night.”

Steve snorts as he turns out the light and pulls the covers up over them both, Bucky wiggling down to horizontal next to him. He tries not to shiver as Bucky wraps a strong arm around him and presses their bodies together from nose to toes. Bucky kisses him then, slow and sweet, their breaths heavy with fruit flavors.

“Goodnight, Steve Rogers-Barnes.”

“That’s Barnes-Rogers to you, Buck.”

  
Bucky laughs quietly as Steve stretches an arm under his head, offering up his bicep for Bucky to use as a pillow. He nuzzles his nose into Bucky’s hair, filling his nostrils with Bucky’s scent. His body feels heavy and beautifully drained, Bucky a warm weight against him.

For the first time this century, Steve is content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Took them long enough. Unbeta'd and I didn't even give it one last read through cuz I'm exhausted and any editing would delay posting by days. Please let me know of mistakes, typos, or anything that doesn't make sense!
> 
> Fun facts:  
> -I didn't have much money when I started having sex so the thought of being able to afford to change and wash the sheets every time I had sex was just kinda beyond my comprehension. I imagine it was much the same for our broke boys in Brooklyn. Also? Very enthusiastic sex can easily soak into the mattress or mattress pad below, which is even more of a hassle. Hence, sex towels. Dark colored ones are also good for sex while menstruating because they don't show the blood.  
> -Butts bleed super easy, even from a fingernail scratch that doesn't hurt that bad. It's one of those "try very hard to avoid it but sometimes these things happen" sort of deals and one of the reasons why a lot of people with better sex ed than these two wear gloves while fingering.  
> -Anal lube tends to be more thick and kinda gloppy to cut down on friction as much as possible but since Steve has the super expensive fancy good stuff I'm going to describe it as slick.  
> -Bucky would never joke about Steve’s performance issues before the serum, when his breathing and circulation were very real issues. A hairtrigger super serum Steve is a different matter, however.  
> -Bucky: terrifying assassin currently on a murderous rampage against Hydra. Steve Rogers: "Aww, he’s so sweet.”  
> -They are going to have absolutely awful morning breath.  
> -Elsewhere, Sam and Natasha try to get a message to Steve. His cell phone was left in his getting ready room at the cathedral and Jarvis informs them that he is unable to contact Captain Rogers for any but the most dire of emergencies (said contact consisting of making loud noises in the living room and hoping they penetrate the thick bedroom door).  
> -Coming up, Steve thinks many of Bucky's hurts can be healed by an overflow of snuggles and sex. Only, it turns out that Steve Rogers may have some hurts of his own. Dun dun dun....

**Author's Note:**

> Steve is so absolutely and completely not done with Bucky.  
> He hasn't even gotten his clothes off yet.


End file.
